Him & I

Bad News

Didn't you know I was waiting on you
Waiting on a dream that'll never come true
Didn't you know I was waiting on you
My face turned to stone when I heard the news
When you decided to break the rules
——Bad News, Kanye West

October 23, 2018

Grayson and Cait both took his parents to the airport, then went back home for a short time before heading out separately, Grayson to leave with the team for Houston and Cait for New York.

Cait had gotten a text from Justin saying that they didn't have any definitive information yet and asking her to call on Wednesday so they could update her. Duke had an exhibition game tonight, so she knew the guys would be busy.

She set about packing for New York, although she kept a fair amount of clothes there. But she was interrupted by her fiancé, who reminded her that it would be eight entire days, maybe even nine, before they saw each other again.

"We've got two hours," Grayson whispered in her ear, "and no parentals to worry about."

"Since when do you worry about them," Cait snorted.

"I try to tone it down when they're here," Grayson said with frown.

"Last night was toned down?" Cait smirked at him.

"Maybe," he grinned now, "I just need to remind you what I'm like when I'm uninhibited."

"An offer I can't refuse, Allen," she laughed.

*****

"Y'know, you aren't working on the weekend," Grayson pointed out an hour and a half later as he was stepping out of the shower.  "You could come to New Orleans.  If I'm not a big enough draw, you'd get to see Frank and Jah."

"You're always the headliner for me," Cait laughed.  "But I promised Connor that I'd go to his soccer tournament with him."

"Where is it?" Grayson asked.  "I'm guessing not New Orleans."

"Pennsylvania," Cait told him. "Sorry. But I will be back here on Wednesday and waiting for you to get home from Minneapolis."

Grayson grumbled a bit, but dressed and resumed his own packing.  Eventually, he glanced over at Cait. 

"I don't get it," he said as he watched her.  "How do you decide which of the thousand bags you own to pack?  You've got Coach, Louis Vuitton, Kate Spade and Vera . . .whatshername . . . Brady.  And why do you need all those bags anyhow?"

"It's Vera Bradley," Cait told him, adding some socks and her running shoes to the paisley print bag she was packing. "And the choice of bag is dependent upon multiple factors. What size I need. Where I'm going. Length of stay. Occasion. Vera Bradley screams upper middle class soccer mom. I'm not Connor's mother, but I don't want to be out of place at his tournament."

"Is there some kind of publication that tells you all this?" he asked with a frown.

"Innate fashion sense, Baby Boy," Cait laughed. "Something which, I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, you simply do not possess."

"I'm okay with that," Grayson laughed.  "I have you to keep me straight."

"Tough job.  But one more reason you'd better keep me around, Allen," she smirked. "And hey, you're rocking that pink Peppa Pig backpack, so your teammates are all over it."